


everything you do is rose-scented

by ouroboric



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Angst, Break Up, Cheating, Cigarettes, Colors, Denial of Feelings, Hanahaki Disease, House Party, I, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Smut, References to Drugs, Rose Petals, Sad Ending, Smoking, Vomiting, a lot tho, barely described but its there, based off of my own poetry, feelings of being worthless, glorifying smoking just a little, having no regard for ones own self, i cant remember the word, i cant think, ill add tags as i see fit or if you guys ask ♥, im sorry, im venting through characters so please heed the warnings, injury used as a small plot device, ish, lapslock, no beta we die, non major injury, overuse of italics for no reason other than over emphasis, seonghwa just wants someone to care for him the way he cares for others, smth like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroboric/pseuds/ouroboric
Summary: like red-tipped cigarette smoke.you’re my angel number;appearing over and over again,until all I can remember is your face.or;five times seonghwa thought he was in love and one time he knew he was
Relationships: Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, but only kinda - Relationship, youll see
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	everything you do is rose-scented

**Author's Note:**

> once again, read the warnings! no happy ending.
> 
> im sorry
> 
> if you've read my nct hanahaki fics, this is kinda like them

smoke dissipates, seonghwa knows this as fact. feelings, however, were much harder to get rid of. he didn’t expect that falling in love would sting quite as bad as it did, though.

the first time they met was at a party. a flash of red had caught seonghwa’s eyes and he found himself looking for the person in every room he roamed to. he would try to find the red in the dimmed lights of the house, mixing up the signals, stopping as he saw green, moving when he caught sight of the red.

seonghwa had cornered him outside, in the vast backyard strewn with other people, all moving in place, swaying. smoke filled the corner, slowly getting blown away by the wind to reveal the person, their hair an entrancing red. he didn’t even think of his boyfriend who had invited him there. nothing ruled his mind in this moment like the sight of red hair did.

he had been pulled so easily into the fog, like a moth attracted by a lamp’s light. he moved closer, stopping as red gazed at him. his eyes, the deepest shade of brown. they took seonghwa’s soul apart, examining each delicate piece before shoving it back together, uncaring of the hurt it sent through the host. the curve of a smile beckoned seonghwa further, and seonghwa ran right into those brown eyes.

it hurt at first; a sting in his lungs, cuts in his mouth that he never knew existed, exposed as he inhaled the first drag. a hand at his mouth took the cigarette away. it giggled, running through seonghwa’s hair as he coughed out. a prickling sensation scratched at his lungs.

“ _slower_.” and he tried again, slower as he was told. there was a creeping feeling of the smoke filling his lungs, pushing them to their limit before he exhaled, slowly, obediently. it was a thrill to see the cloud that he made, dispersing into the night sky, leaving for the stars and planets.

he looked over, a smile overtaking his face as he stared into those brown eyes. with a hand on his shoulder, he took another drag, slowly. and when he breathed out, the smoke was pink.

\---

the second time they met had been an accident. a fluke. a total mistake.

the skatepark was almost empty, only the sound of one skater disrupting the silence every now and then. seonghwa sat underneath a tree, halfway working on an assignment, halfway keeping an eye on his friend as he attempted to skate across a railing.

just as yeosang went for the rail again, a person sat down beside seonghwa, startling him.

his breath caught in his throat as he met those brown eyes, the plush and smirking lips. seonghwa’s own hung open, confused at the presence.

“youre the guy from the party, right?” _oh fuck_.

“uh, yeah. i am.” he was breathless all of a sudden, entranced as he watched a slow smile spread on the others face.

“cool, cool. i wan-“ a loud crash sounded from the pipe, a deep groan following. seonghwa’s attention was immediately drawn away as he threw down his homework and ran to where yeosang lay, curled into a ball.

his hand wound around his ankle, face scrunched into a pained expression. his ankle looked red and was beginning to balloon.

seonghwa was frantic; he tried getting yeosang’s shoe off, making the boy grunt as the sneaker slipped off. seonghwa threw it away and began to fuss over yeosang’s bleeding knees that were staining his jeans slightly. he was just starting to roll up yeosang’s pant leg to get a better look when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” seonghwa looked at him; the concerned eyes, the down-turned smile. it made seonghwa’s heart beat faster.

“that’d be great, yeah.”

-

seonghwa drummed his fingers on the plastic chair’s arm. his leg bobbed up and down, impatiently waiting for yeosang to get out of the x-ray room. he sat next to him, typing something on his phone. with a startled movement, seonghwa glanced at his phone. he found himself reading the text messages that were being sent, unaware of how the fingers typing had stopped. there was a snap in front of his face and seonghwa sharply looked away.

“you alright there?” seonghwa felt his face warm. his mind began to race in tandem with his heart.

“uh, yeah.” _great fucking save, park_. _lie_. he needed to lie and say he wasn’t being curious about who he was texting. “i just realized i don’t know your name.” the suspicion lifted from the other boy’s face, replaced with understanding.

“it is kinda weird that we don’t know each other's names, but also i didn’t think i would be able to see you again. i’m hongjoong.”

_hongjoong_. the center of this broad world. it was fitting; hongjoong had certainly quickly became the center of seonghwa’s world. it made seonghwa wonder if hongjoong felt the same, but he mostly likely didn’t. after all, he had been sexting some guy, from what seonghwa had blearily read.

“i’m seonghwa. my friend,” seonghwa made a rough head movement in the direction of the x-ray room, “is yeosang. thank you for driving us here.” he felt the urge to be polite, understanding he meant little to hongjoong. but that brought up one question searing into his brain.

“why did you drive us here?” hongjoong stared at him for a second before clicking his phone off and slipping it into his jean pocket. then, he shrugged.

“you seemed a little panicked. i was trying to be nice.” hongjoong sighed. “i didn’t wanna just leave you alone, you seemed like you needed some company in the future.” hongjoong took a look around the waiting room; the sterile white walls, the rubber floors with inconsistent colored patches. the desk lady sat at her computer, surrounded by the high half-walls, oblivious to anyone outside of her vision range.

“no one should be in a hospital waiting room alone.” seonghwa smiled and hongjoong glanced over, a smile appearing on his face, too. seonghwa felt fluttering within his chest, the feeling spreading to his entire torso.

“thank you, hongjoong.”

\---

seonghwa can barely remember the third time. maybe it was due to the amount of drugs and alcohol in his system. he really doesn’t care.

all he can remember is the way hongjoong’s skin felt beneath his fingertips. falling into his grasps as the other abandoned a conversation for him. how soft hongjoong’s blindingly red hair was as he gripped it. the text from yeosang telling him about how he saw san with somebody else. the way hongjoong’s tongue felt as it traveled further down, down, _down_.

he can remember how constricted his throat felt as he laid with hongjoong in the afterglow, breathing heavily.

hongjoongs sweat-slicked skin shone in the dull lamplight, looking like temptation in all its sinful forms and in any other circumstance, seonghwa would’ve dived in again, but all seonghwa felt was sick.

the rush to the bathroom comes in flashes; full porcelain white, the red bath mat, electric pain of dropping limply to his knees.

and that’s when he should’ve seen it. the first petal.

but he didn’t even notice it, which was his mistake. he was too focused on the pain ricocheting in his lungs, burning his throat, contrasting with hongjoong’s cool hands on his bare back.

\---

the fourth time, seonghwa didn’t even realize hongjoong was there.

he had taken a week to get over san. bastard hadn’t been brave enough to break it off with seonghwa in person, evading his attempts to meet and talk it over. seonghwa had bit the bullet before san could shoot. and he felt nothing.

the cafe he was at was cute; filled with little chalkboard signs spewing positive phrases and bullshit meaning. seonghwa was there for the strawberry cake and the general quiet that would sustain him through writing his poetry final.

the prompt was simple enough; write 5-8 pages of poetry using techniques and types of poetry learned in the class. easy. or it should be if not for the giant block in seonghwa’s mind.

he sat at his laptop, drumming his fingers on the table repeatedly, other hand wrapped around his coffee cup. the black tea he had ordered was long gone, leaving a warmed mug behind. seonghwa wished he had another piece of cake, looking longingly at the empty plate across from him that was smeared with frosting. anything, he thought, would get his mind working again.

the door chimed, breaking seonghwa of his plate staredown. he refocused on the blinking line of his cursor. his leg bounced.

a person gently rapped their knuckles on his table, making seonghwa jump and look up. it was san.

immediately seonghwa felt his pulse quicken. as if someone was threatening him, he began to shrink back into the booth, slowly sliding his things toward him. his mind was filled with the need to leave, to go, to get the fuck out. to tell san to get the fuck away. he had been such a coward before, why was he showing up now?

as seonghwa opened his mouth to speak, san beat him to it.

“i know we should’ve talked in person, but i really don’t want to.” seonghwa felt a hot strike of fury run through his veins. san continued, “call me a coward, a cheater, an idiot— whatever. i don’t care. i just wanna be able to talk with you again.” san’s eyes looked glassy, but seonghwa wasn’t falling for his deceitful puppy eyes. not again. not ever.

“we either talk about it or you fuck off.” seonghwa felt proud of himself, watching as san’s face quickly transformed into sharpness. gone were the rounded eyes and pouted lips; a snarl and creased forehead.

“why are you being such a bitch about this, hwa?” seonghwa felt his face heat up at the nickname. “i just want to be able to talk with my favorite person again.”

seonghwa grit his teeth, hands curling painfully into fists beneath the table. with a swift movement, he stood up from the table and began to gather his things and shove them into his backpack. san stepped away, scared by how suddenly he had stood, but that didn’t keep him away for long.

“where are you going?” seonghwa stuffed his now closed laptop into his bag, zipping it closed with more force than needed. “i just wan—“

“no.” seonghwa turned on his heel, finger pointed right into san’s chest. if he pressed any further he could’ve felt san’s erratic heartbeat. “you don’t ‘just want.’ you _never_ ‘just want.’ you always just take and take and i’m sick of it.” his voice broke on the last vowel, and he felt his tear ducts begin to leak. seonghwa took a breath.

“leave me alone. we’re over, you caused it. don’t talk to me again. i hope whoever you were with loves you more than i did.” with that, seonghwa pushed past san, making for the door. it chimed as he ripped it open, light and mellifluous.

seonghwa didn’t notice how san had tried to go after him nor the redhead that stopped him.

—-

the fifth time, seonghwa fucked up.

another night, another random house party one of his friends had invited him to. he didn’t even realize he considered seonghwa a friend. seonghwa didn’t pay much mind to his friend, too busy texting hongjoong. too busy not paying attention to his aching heart.

the music drowned his friend’s talking out, seonghwa nodding his head to be polite. it made sense that he was confused when his friend grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the party, away from the crowd.

they went outside, to the backyard. a chill breeze blew, making the leaves rustle as they sat upon the garden wall, far from the others outside.

“you seem a little lost.” yunho’s voice was gentle, but it wasn’t the concerned face seonghwa craved to see.

a guttural, feral want had taken shelter in seonghwa’s stomach, staining his insides with thoughts of hongjoong. the want tore through his lungs, molting, leaving bits of itself in the cavities. they rattled as he breathed, stirring up dream dust that lay mostly dormant until seonghwa breathed hard enough to make them into mirages of red.

seonghwa turned to yunho, looking him over.

_blue_.

“i’m feeling fine.” such a calming color; it reminded seonghwa of the beach his family would vacation to when he was younger. he would wake up early just to watch the waves tumble over each other, fighting to make it to shore only to be brought away by the moon’s pull.

seonghwa wished he could fly. maybe then he could fly away from the way yunho felt around him, the way yunho was so pliant beneath his body.

maybe then he could fly away from the love he felt.

—-

hurt. all seonghwa felt was pain in his lungs.

he lazily rolled the red-tipped cigarette around in his fingers, feeling the paper. the floor was cool on his back.

he wished hongjoong was there.

maybe then, he wouldn’t feel so empty as he took a drag, carelessly blowing it out into his living room ceiling. warmth blossomed in his chest and he took a slow breath out.

seonghwa didn’t know if the pain in his lungs was because of the smoke or the petals.

when it first happened, seonghwa was panic-stricken. he thought he had eaten something bad, but the only thing he had had that day was strawberry cake. the only person he had seen that day was san and he didn’t have flowers. he never did.

yeosang had found him the second time, sleeping in his bed, surrounded by rose petals and bile he had been too tired to clean off. he had a hard time going anywhere other than his bed and his kitchen floor.

yeosang had worried, of course. called hongjoong.

but as soon as yeosang spoke his name, seonghwa was curling into a ball, entire body moving as if he had been electrocuted.

the movement only stopped once he had expelled enough rose petals to make a full bouquet.

seonghwa didn’t want hongjoong near him. he knew hongjoong didn’t want him around, didn’t want him how seonghwa wanted him. it would only gross him out to see seonghwa like this, unable to take care of himself.

yeosang had yielded, calling hongjoong again and telling him to not come over. but the damage had already been done.

hongjoong called seonghwa afterwards, and the care and concern in his voice tasted like the sweetest cotton candy seonghwa had ever eaten. it floated through his senses, lulling him into a dream where he imagined hongjoong taking care of him, loving him like seonghwa loved him.

seonghwa awoke in a different bed.

waking up in a stranger’s house never felt right to seonghwa. waking up in a stranger’s bed felt even worse. it felt like he had taken the skin off of someone’s back and was trying to hide beneath the rumpled sheets with his treasure, licking the fluids from his palms with a dry tongue. leaving no evidence of what had happened.

he felt like an imposter. it wasn’t him, going out to all these parties and getting drunk and high. he was never the main character in his own story, feeling disconnected from the world. but it didn’t matter where he was in the story, it all lead him to the same conclusion; _hongjoong_.

seonghwa had fallen into bed with hongjoong more than he had ever with san. it sent a shot through his heart whenever he thought about it, but san was no more to him now than crumbling ash dusted off of his cigarette.

red. all he saw now was red. weren’t the glasses supposed to be rose-colored? he had been promised, told stories of light giggles and love letters slid through his mail slot. he didn't know his body would end up shades of pastels; greens, blues, yellows. his bleeding heart sealed the love letters he never would be able to send. in a sick way, he deserved he, he thought. he _knew._

all seonghwa wanted to see was red; the red finger marks dug into his hips, the red of his knees cropping in and filling up the space between the pastel bruises running down his legs. the red hair seonghwa couldn’t stop thinking of.

seonghwa wondered if hongjoong had ever been sick like him before. if he had ever known how it felt to throw up petal after petal into the sink. if he had had to dig for one stuck beneath his tongue, feeling the spit-slicked surface. seonghwa wondered where his concern had gone.

he brought the cigarette back to his lips. the smoke dissipated before it arose fully to the ceiling, leaving seonghwa laying on the floor surrounded by red rose petals, bile, and tears.

roses were fitting. seonghwa took a slow drag.

**Author's Note:**

> twt: yunhomyheart  
> tumblr: starrynx
> 
> thank you for reading ♥


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